The Network
by Roxsoutloud
Summary: It was all a matter of keeping quiet, something that Amy and Dan were good at. Quiet equals safe. That is until strange things begin to occur. Now when the unexpected starts happening and secrets are revealed, the two must find the fine line between dream and reality. "There is no turning back, the Network has begun." Sorry Grace, looks like even the dead can't keep secrets. AU


**Disclaimer: I don't own the 39 clues. I bet you five bucks you knew that though.**

**Anyways, this is my first official story, welcome me as your queen, the beautiful Roxsoutloud. I want to tell everyone this now, yes there will be romance. Not like an overfilling amount of it, cause that's just gross. I can promise you this now, all of my stories (in the future) will have more of an action, mystery, thriller thing going on. Romance will be there but on the down low.  
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**And who will this romance be with? I don't know. Well I do know but I won't tell you. Why? Because it's spoiling. One of the things I hate when it comes to writing stories is that they'll ask you a question like: _What will happen next? Who will Amy go out with?_ And right underneath it, for the main characters is Amy and Ian and I read the story and Amy and Ian get together. I knew exactly what was going to happen. I hate stories like that so... I'm saying NOTHING!**

**Also, in this story, the whole Cahills v.s. Vespers thing never happened. So Post-Clue Hunt or AU, I guess. Is it just me or was Day of Doom a mess? Someone please answer that for me.**

**Besides that point, enjoy.**

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**The Network: A 39 Clues Story**

**Prologue: The Beginning**

**"Life is not so much about beginnings and endings, as it is about going on and on and on. It is about muddling through the middle"**

**-Anna Quindlen**

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**3rd POV**

The scent had been welcoming. The smell of dirt and death reminded him of home. As horrifying as it sounded, he couldn't help but give a sick smile to the man next to him. He knew nothing other than death, it was like a trail, paving his life; following him everywhere. He embraced it.

What else could he do?

"The plan..." The second man began.

"Don't worry about the plan. Everything is going just the way we wanted." The first man told him. And of course they were. He had waited too long for this, too long to let the chance pass him by.

There was silence. Suddenly the man's chocolate coat shifted softly. At this moment the two men conversed under the shadow of an Oak tree. Even with the large Oaks providing endless amounts of shade, the heat still fell upon them. Their only relief the soft wind blowing. The leaves shake slightly above, causing a single leaf to fall. It seemed that they were not the only ones in need of relief.

The man slowly slid off his coat, tossing it behind his back. As the grass bent over from the breeze, he began to wonder why he had brought the coat to begin with. He gave a childish smile, it just felt right. Or at least he thought it did. He looked to the green beneath him. He saw the still green leaf from the tree above now across the ground. He couldn't help but think this was how things were.

_All good things must end._

He ran his hand through his auburn hair. His green eyes shined. He crushed the leaf with his shoe, leaving no trace of its existence. He continued on with his conversation. "You, your client that is, still wants this yes?"

The second man could only nod.

"Good. Consider it done." The second man thanked him before heading off in a different direction, as if he were never here in the first place. The man sighed, dropping his coat to the floor. He couldn't believe how the world was nowadays. Thanking him, thanking him for... _this_? Even he knew it was wrong.

That this was wrong.

But that doesn't matter. It never will. What matters is the task at hand. And it will be completed. Two years of planning, of working under idiotic bosses, spending all nighters at his desk thinking of how to make this detail just perfect or fix that tiny mistake over there. He would not fail. After taking his coat, he walked to the graves below. This happened to be the best graveyard in all of Boston.

It also happened to be where relatives were close by.

He looked at the grave, touching it softly. In large fancy scripture, embedded on the tombstone lied the words _Hope Cahill_. He could only sigh again. This was a game of cat and mouse. And he would not lose. He walked away, getting as far away as he possibly could. What must be done will get done.

_They will be eliminated._

After all, graveyards were made for sleeping.

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**Thanks for reading.**


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